


Motorcade, The

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-04-28
Updated: 2001-04-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 22:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14799300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Flashbacks of the past...





	Motorcade, The

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

The Motorcade  
By: Jenna

Disclaimers: Alas, alack and woe is me, all belong to Aaron, not to me.  
Archive: If you so desire.  
Setting: Probably not too to long after Noel.  
Reality Warning: I'm quite sure I've taken extreme liberties with medical truth.

* * *

"Josh, are you sure you're okay with this?" Leo quietly inquired as the White House Chief of Staff and his Deputy followed the President across the tarmac to the awaiting motorcade.

As the two men prepared to slid into the back-facing seat of the limousine opposite the President, Josh responded, "Yeah, I'm fine." Under his breath he added, "I have to be..."

Secret Service Agent Ron Butterfield looked around the tarmac and saw that the other staffers, assorted economic advisers, aides, and Press Corps had filed off of Air Force One and gotten into their assigned vehicles. He settled in the front passenger seat of the president's limousine giving the order to proceed. The motorcade pulled away from the plane with the their police escort.

The President and several of his Senior Staff had just arrived at Dallas-Fort Worth Airport on a whirlwind trip to address to an audience of conservative oil and banking bigwigs. A little glad-handing at a luncheon, an address on the state of the economy, then back home. This wouldn't be a friendly audience for a liberal Democrat, but President Bartlet needed their support for his policies and their confidence in his administration. A good speech and a good impression were essential. Toby and Sam had been revising the speech on the plane ride out and would be busy tweaking it some more as they rode in the second limousine.

As the motorcade left the airport and raced onto the freeway for the 30-minute drive to downtown Dallas, President Bartlet and his Chief of Staff, Leo McGarry, quickly became engrossed in reviewing the planned speech and the latest economic numbers. They didn't notice that Josh wasn't contributing to the conversation, but Leo did notice when Josh started fidgeting.

"Josh," he said mildly irritated, "what are you doing?"

"Umm... nothing. Sorry."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm fine, really. I'm fine," he lied.

"Okay. You'll let me know if there's a problem?"

"Sure."

Leo and Bartlet had resumed their conversation on the merits of paying down the debt and trying to convince these conservative businessmen that that was more important than tax breaks that would benefit big business.

Josh stared out the window at the monotony of the urban freeway landscape. He had to hold it together. He couldn't have an episode of Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. He couldn't allow it. Not here. Not now. He had to hold it together. Just. Hold. It. Together. It was just that the damn sirens.... Donna was right. She'd driven him out to Edwards Air Force Base at 4 A.M. lecturing him the entire way that it was too soon after his last PTSD episode for him to be exposing himself to the continuous wail of sirens and flashing lights of a Presidential motorcade. He should have listened to her. Think about Donna... Don't think about Rosslyn-- He flinched as the bullet tore into his chest. He was lost in the pain. Not sure why he felt so strange, he wandered up the stairs and sat down to catch his breath. He'd just sit a moment... Someone would come for him. He'd just wait for someone to find him.

"Josh, what were those numbers on the jobs lost in the oil industry in the last 20 years? "President Bartlet asked. Josh was facing the window and appeared not to be listening.

"Josh!" Leo snapped in an effort to break Josh from his reverie, "The President asked you a question."

Josh continued to stare out the window. Leo and Bartlet looked at each other in concern. Something was wrong. Dead wrong. Leo reached out to touch Josh's shoulder.

"Josh," he said as he pulled his Deputy around to face them.

The pale, blank look on his face and the tears in the unfocused eyes told them the story. His hand clutched his lower chest to stem the imagined blood flow. He was at Rosslyn waiting to be found.

Leo turned fully towards Josh putting both hands on his shoulders. "Josh!" he exclaimed, shaking the younger man slightly in the hopes of bringing him out of the PTSD episode. Of at least getting him to the point where he would respond and could function.

President Bartlet slid down the seat across from Josh and reaching out to touch his arm gently called his name, "Josh."

Josh started and trembled. He'd been found. Soon the paramedics would start to work to stabilize him for transport to George Washington Hospital. Then the cycle might stop or it might repeat in endless waves. Crashing down on him until Josh managed to make it stop --somehow.

Ron Butterfield noticed the activity in the back of the limousine and lowered the glass partition. Quickly taking stock of the situation he spoke into his radio, "Yale's Code Yellow. Operation QH is in effect." He looked up at the President and Leo, who sat helplessly wondering what to do, and said, "We thought this might happen. We can't cut the sirens, and that wouldn't help him at this point anyway. It'd just draw the Press' attention to the fact there's something wrong."

"What do we do, Ron?" the President asked. In matters of the President's security and running this Motorcade, the Secret Service agent called the shots.

"For now, there's nothing you can do but let the flashback play through. Just keep talking to him. Reassure him that he's not alone. Eventually, he'll hear you and realize he's not really there."

Leo, still holding Josh by the shoulders, looked at his protégé and sighed. He wasn't any good at this. He forte was as a cutthroat analytical politician. Jed had always been the one who was the 'people person'. The one to show easy affection--once he learned your name, that is. But Josh... Josh was the son he'd always wanted. His legacy to the world of politics. It was his place to help Josh. Not Jed's. He slid his left arm around Josh's back and used his right hand to pull Josh's shoulder towards him so that Josh's head came to rest on his chest. Holding the younger man to him, he said, "You're safe, Josh. We're with you. You're safe."

President Bartlet reached out to squeeze Josh's shoulder, then sat back and grimly asked Ron, "What's this about Operation QH?"

"Most of the agents, including myself, are out of the military or law enforcement. We've seen PTSD before. This should never have happened to Josh. He should never have been shot. We failed to properly secure the building the shooters were in. We don't want to see Josh hung out to dry for our mistake," the agent explained. "We have another 12 minutes before we get to there. Here's what we do then..."

* * *

In the second Presidential limousine, Toby and Sam were picking over words in the upcoming address and substituting any they thought might relay negative connotations. Agent Marcus Green lowered the partition and turned to face the men in the back of the limo.

"Excuse me, sirs. You've been requested to go to the President's limo to meet with Mr. McGarry as soon as we arrive."

"Toby gave the agent an exasperated look at pulled out his cell phone, "Why didn't he just call so we could discuss it now?"

"I don't know sir, maybe because cell phone calls can be intercepted."

"That's true," Sam piped in. "Once, when I was at my sister's house, her baby monitor--"

"Sam! No one cares. Fine," Toby said looking up at Agent Green, "tell them we'll join them at the car."

* * *

Agent Sara Johnson in the press bus also heard the announcement that Operation QH was in effect. Unfortunately, C.J. Cregg was in the back of the bus surrounded by members of the press. If she had the chance to tell Ms. Cregg, she would, but it looked like the best she could do would be to try to make sure the Press were hurried into the building and didn't notice any activity around the President's limousine.

* * *

The motorcade exited the freeway and proceeded through the downtown streets to the Luxury Hotel/Convention Center. They turned into the underground parking and came to a halt. Ron Butterfield quickly got out and was surrounded by other agents from the vehicles and the advance team who were to escort the President into the building. Blocking the view of the limousine interior, he opened the door, quickly closing it again after the President exited. Toby and Sam got out of their limousine and walked up to the President's limo. Agent Green followed them and took Ron Butterfield's spot by the limousine door as Ron left to follow the President.

"Okay, what's this about," Toby said opening the door.

"Get in and shut the door," Leo ordered. His tone made it clear there was no discussion allowed.

Toby stooped to climb into the vehicle and got his first look at the fact that Leo was holding Josh to his chest. His eyes widened and a worried frown marked his features as he quickly sat down, sliding to the far side so that Sam could join him.

Agent Green closed the door behind Sam and stood guard. The press filed into the building about forty feet away and seemed not to have noticed the absence of the Senior Staffers. He nodded at Sara as she passed. She had done a good job hustling the Press away from the vehicles. If it were noticed, the game plan called for the explanation that the staffers were just putting the final polish on the speech and didn't want to get out yet.

"The sirens," Toby said, "We shouldn't have let him come. Regardless of what he said. How is he?"

Leo pulled Josh's shoulder back revealing Josh's face to Toby and Sam. They'd seen that vacant look before -- in Rosslyn. Leo had seen it too, but not in Rosslyn. He remembered it from thirty years before when he first saw a nine-year old Josh Lyman. It was at the funeral for the daughter of his law firm associate and friend, Noah Lyman. It was three years before he ever saw Josh smile.

"Josh," he said hoping he could get through now that the sirens had stopped. "Josh, I have to go. The President needs me. Toby and Sam are here."

"Leo," Josh said, starting to focus and pulling away from Leo in embarrassment, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay Josh." Holding Josh by the shoulders, he saw the agony in his eyes. "You're gonna be okay now." Leo sat Josh back against the seat and squeezed his shoulder. He turned to Toby and Sam.

"Give him about ten minutes. Then Toby has to bring the speech in and go over it with the President. If Josh can manage it, come on in for the luncheon. If not, we'll say it was a stomach bug. Either way, he's not going through this again. Sam's to take a limo and get him back to Air Force One early. If you come in," Leo said looking at Sam, "just leave when the President gets to the part about the economic benefits for meeting lower emission standards. That should give you time to be well ahead of the motorcade."

Leo got out of the limo and headed after the President. Surprisingly to Sam, the Secret Service agent stayed at the door rather than following Leo. He was grateful that the agent stayed to ensure their privacy. Sam and Toby looked at each other wondering what to say to Josh. Josh had averted his face and was staring out the window. He looked emotionally drained.

"Josh," Sam gently said, "Do you want to talk or..."

"I'm still having them. The flashbacks. It's just... I... I know I'm not really there now."

"Would it help if we told you what was happening? What you're seeing?" Toby asked.

"It couldn't possibly be any worse than this."

"I found you. You know that don't you?" Toby rubbed his eyes, trying to bring the horror of that night back into clear focus. "I called for help and Sam and CJ came running. Then the paramedics. I... I don't know why no one noticed you sooner. You were sitting there in plain sight. It doesn't make sense! I don't know. I guess people couldn't see the blood on the dark shirt at night. I keep going over and over it in my head: how come no one noticed you sitting there. How come no one noticed you weren't there with us. Everyone was dazed-- terrified that the President had been killed. At first, we didn't know what happened to him. Then we heard he'd been put in a car. I started counting heads. I realized I didn't know where you were. I couldn't find you. Charlie said you'd gone with Leo, but I knew that was Shanahan. I started calling for you. Then I saw your shoulder sticking out from behind the wall. I asked if you didn't hear me calling. Then I came around and saw the blood. Saw you'd been shot. I caught you as you collapsed. Then... CJ and Sam... I took off my jacket and tried to make a compress. CJ held your hand, and Sam held your head until the paramedics came and pushed us away." Toby's voice faltered.

"I've never been so scared, Josh," Sam added quietly as he took up the narrative, "or felt so helpless. The paramedics were terrific. They cut your shirt open and --it was such a tiny little hole-- but the blood--" his voice caught on the word, "--there was so much blood. They'd stick a gauze pad on and it'd be soaked through before they could get another one open. They just kept adding more and more... Then they stuck the IV in your arm and told me to hold the bag up. I couldn't tell you if we were there for five minutes or forty minutes. It seemed like time both stopped and went incredibly fast all in one. They put you in the ambulance and the Secret Service put us in a car and followed behind. I never realized how fast those limos can go when you really try."

Josh gazed silently at his friends as they gave their accounts of the night. He couldn't really remember the events clearly. He remembered the terror. The panic. His own sense of detachment as he went into shock. Listening to them tell their accounts gave Josh a chance to process the memories. He realized how affected they all had been by the events of that night. It wasn't just him. They should all have talked about this months ago, before he came back to work. They shouldn't have put up this brave, professional front that they 'had a country to run', so just ignore the shooting and it'll go away.

He realized that his trying to repress the flashbacks on the ride from the airport had probably had just made the episode worse. He really should have listened to Donna. He should have at least trusted Leo and the President to help him when he realized he was in trouble. Maybe talking about it would have kept him from falling so completely into the flashback that he didn't even have a dual sense of reality. But... their ten minutes must be up by now...

"I think I can manage now. We'd better go in. Guys... thanks. For everything."

* * *

Epilogue

Sam and Toby had run interference, keeping Josh away from anyone who might notice something was amiss. As planned, Sam made sure that Josh was out of the Hotel about 15 minutes before the President's motorcade departed. If anyone noticed their absence in the motorcade, no one thought it worth mentioning. On the flight back, Leo told Josh about Ron Butterfield and the other Secret Service agents protecting him from exposure. He was touched that they were willing to do that for him. Sure, throwing themselves in front of a bullet to protect the President was their job, but protecting him from media attention... well, he was honored by their personal loyalty. He didn't think he'd ever done anything to deserve it.

Josh found Ron Butterfield in one of the conference areas aboard Air Force One doing a security debrief with several of his agents. Ron saw him waiting, dismissed the agents, and motioned to Josh.

"I... I wanted to thank you and the other agents for what you did. I realize you didn't have to help me. I don't know what to say... Thank you."

"Get used to it Josh. We take it personally when someone gets through our perimeter and takes down one of our assignments. It doesn't matter if the agent was even there or part of the detail when it happened. It happened and it shouldn't have. We take it personally. You don't need to thank us."

"Yeah. Well, thanks all the same. Leo said you had prepared for the possibility. Something about Operation QH..."

"Queen of Hearts. We all got to know Donna pretty well at the hospital."

"Oh. She told you I had PTSD?"

"No. We told her."

* * *

The end.


End file.
